


Communiqué

by thesevioletdelights



Series: Kylux Ficlets / Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Exhibitionism, Grand Marshal Hux, Hux is a Slut, Kings of Extra, Kylo's shuttle pilot is a hero, Life In The First Order is Tough, M/M, Peavey abuse, Public Sex, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, They don't pay these officers enough for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14247135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesevioletdelights/pseuds/thesevioletdelights
Summary: Two things are responsible for this.1. this @kyluxhardkink prompt.“Hux prefers giving his reports to Supreme Leader Kylo while riding his dick, other people walking in on them only makes him harder.”2.thispost about the poor guy who is misfortunate enough to pilot Kylo's command shuttle. he is a good soldier. he has seen things. he wishes he had not.





	Communiqué

Standing on the bridge of the Supreme Leader’s command shuttle, Jober Tavson straightens his uniform before falling into parade rest. He is joined by a few select officers, including the three captains in charge of the First Order's latest military operation on Onderon. They have lined themselves up in a neat row along the far wall and are now glancing with apparent unease at the door that separates the bridge from the passenger compartment of the shuttle.

The Supreme Leader himself is seated in the commander chair in the center of the room, dark and silent, as usual resembling more a cloud of black smoke than a young man his age.

The durasteel door slides open and General Hux enters. _No, it is Grand Marshal now_ , Tavson reminds himself, snapping to attention along with the officers. Hux acknowledges them with a lofty nod. At first glance nothing in his appearance is out of place, except for his greatcoat which is uncharacteristically, buttoned up to his neck.

Wordlessly, Hux kneels onto the commander chair, straddling Kylo’s thighs and Kylo runs his hands down Hux’s chest. His robes and large body shield Hux from prying eyes as his fingers begin to work on the buttons of Hux’s coat. A look of understanding seems to pass between them. Kylo’s hand slips under the heavy garment, toying with something underneath it and Hux sucks in a shaky breath. When Kylo’s draws his hand back, a wide, cone shaped object is nestled between his fingers, its slick, transparent surface glistening in the dim light of the command bridge.

Tavson saw a toy like this once, at one of the Hutt joints with the dancer girls. Its purpose perplexed him at first, but he’s been assured that the sensation can be quite enjoyable. Hux certainly seems to think so, if the sound he made when Kylo withdrew the plug is any indication. Hux shifts his body, still well-hidden under the bulk of his coat. Slowly, he lowers himself onto the Supreme Leader’s lap, his hand searching up behind him.

There is one palpable moment of concentration when both of them hold their breath – so does the entire command bridge - then Kylo’s hips snap up without warning. Hux shouts and jerks forward, fingers digging into the Supreme Leader’s shoulders. His voice rises in pitch as Kylo grabs his waist and continues to thrust, each sharp upward jab wringing out hitching sounds from Hux that leave no doubt as to the nature of the act taking place. 

Some of the officers look decidedly uncomfortable now. Others are watching with rapt attention. _Different strokes_ , Tavson supposes. His own proclivities lean more toward Zeltron girls, but that doesn’t mean he has to work himself into a tizzy over his superiors fucking, unlike certain members of the high command; Peavey, for example, who had to take one week of leave - some say it was medical - after suffering through a similar ordeal that took place when the new Supreme Leader declared the Finalizer his flagship. Hux seemed to enjoy that one a bit too much. All the while Tavson was silently wondering if - or when - the veins in Peavey’s temples would burst. He never really liked Peavey anyway. Too excitable.

Being excitable is not how Tavson survived this long and kept both his head and his rank. He has seen Kylo Ren slaughter entire villages, lifted the command shuttle from amidst enemy fire on more than one occasion and as far as sex goes, he’s witnessed much much more depraved things during shore leave on Nar Shaddaa. 

Kylo is rolling his hips languidly now, stroking up gently once, twice. Hux is pressed up against him, arms around Kylo’s neck, breath coming in shallow puffs. His usually neat hair has come loose, a few strands falling into his eyes. The hem of his coat has ridden up on one side, revealing a long, pale thigh pressed tightly against Kylo’s black-clad leg. 

“Your report, Grand Marshal,” Kylo says in his peculiar lilting tone, hands caressing Hux’s back under the coat. The captains stiffen anxiously.

“ _Yes_ , Supreme Leader-“ Hux breathes the words like they are terms of endearment. He is obviously pleased with himself, Kylo’s attention, or both.

“We have…uh, conducted five strikes. Destroyed four fighting positions and a weapons… cache.“ Hux lifts his hips then drops them back down and Kylo lets out a groan that makes one of the more weak-nerved officers shiver. “Number of enemy targets eliminated… one hundred and eighteen. Operational loss: two… _nngh_ — transports. Casualties: thirty-two. Fatalities: fif–fifteen.”

_A resounding success._ Tavson is impressed; both by the numbers and Hux’s ability to deliver the exact figures, considering… well, the situation. While the Grand Marshal has more flair for drama than strategy, admittedly, he has always been efficient at what he does. Just two standard months ago, he was picking himself off the floor of this very command shuttle amid disparaging glances and barely concealed snickers - now the same men don’t even dare to raise their eyes in his presence. 

“Captain Qaim here,” Hux is saying now, lifting a gloved hand to beckon one of the captains closer, “has demonstrated… _exceptional_ prowess.” 

Qaim looks like he doesn’t really wish to be commended for his exceptional prowess, but takes a step forward nevertheless. Hux casually threads his fingers through Kylo’s hair, passing a hand over the long locks in a deliberately intimate motion. A warning. Lest Qaim and the onlookers mistake this vile display for what it initially looks like - Kylo Ren fucking his disgraced former co-commander in front of his subordinates to establish dominance. _No_ , Hux’s whole posture says. _I am part of this._

“The captain’s unit,” Hux continues, “was the first to, ah– _breach_ the partisans’ stronghold.” 

The Supreme Leader tilts his head just a fraction, hooded gaze sliding towards Qaim. The muscles in the captain’s throat work as he swallows. Tavson does not envy him. 

“Is that so. Well done." 

“Thank you, Supreme Leader.” Qaim somehow manages not to stutter. He holds his face carefully impassive, chin high, gaze fixed firmly forward. Certainly not making eye contact with the First Order’s new leadership. Or glance down to where their bodies are joined. 

Qaim, like everyone else now, knows better than to commit an indiscretion. One of the newly promoted stormtrooper captains foolishly gave the Grand Marshal a shameless once-over when accepting his praise. Tavson knew that guy from the mess hall. He had always been a braggart and a lush; now he is two separate mounds of frozen flesh floating in space. A lightsaber cut cauterizes the wound instantly; this was the important piece of information the officers learnt that day. At least they didn’t have to scrape blood off the floor. 

Kylo dismisses Qaim with a flick of his fingers and the captain steps back into line hastily. 

Kylo’s focus has shifted back to Hux. His pupils are blown wide, eyes almost entirely black. He is caressing a spot somewhere below Hux’s stomach. 

“I suggest,” Hux purrs, as if emboldened by Kylo’s touches, “we launch a preemptive strike on the other planets as well— oh, _kriff_ —“ 

Kylo’s hand is between Hux’s legs now and whatever he is doing is making Hux quiver. “You are so greedy, Grand Marshal,” Kylo murmurs against Hux’s ear, voice low but still audible. His arm begins to move in short, rapid jerks; up and down beneath the folds Hux’s coat. “Don’t worry. The Japrael system is dependent on its core planet. The rest will follow… without question. No need to waste resources.” Kylo makes a twisting motion with his hand. “Do you agree.” 

“Yes–“ Hux whines, rocking himself back and forth. “Yes, _sir_.” 

“Good,” Kylo says, voice thick. “Very good, Hux— Come on. Finish your report.” 

Hux takes Kylo’s hands and places them on the armrests, palms facing downwards. Kylo is watching him, like a big, black predator watches its prey. Hux shoves at the Supreme Leader’s chest with a gloved hand and Kylo lets himself sink back into the chair, his legs falling open. 

Hux is grinding down on Kylo now, his greatcoat rippling around him as he rides Kylo with abandon, the fabric rising and falling with every tight pop of his ass. There is almost no way to tell where one ends and the other begins, if not for Kylo’s hands gripping the arms of the chair and the soles of Hux’s boots sticking out from under his coat on either side of Kylo’s spread thighs. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the small room, interspersed with Kylo’s grunts, Hux’s indecent moans - _yes, there— right there_ — and the rhythmical creak of the command chair beneath them. 

The majority of the officers are staring at the wall with a pained expression. Some are still watching with detached interest. Then there is Bascus, face beet red, desperately trying - and failing - to will his obvious erection away, unable to cover himself while in parade rest. Tavson raises an eyebrow. Bascus has always been very supportive of Hux. 

Kylo cants his hips and Hux’s head tips back, his spine arching. The greatcoat falls open, almost slipping off Hux’s shoulders and all the officers lean forward, even Tavson. There is no shocking reveal. Kylo growls low in his throat, curves himself around Hux to pull him back into his lap, enveloping him in his arms and the folds of his robes. He whispers in Hux’s ear in terse, hushed tones, and not for the first time Tavson suspects that these repeated depraved performances are more likely orchestrated by the Grand Marshal, rather than Kylo. 

Said Grand Marshal now appears to be in a daze, looking almost drugged out, face flushed and mouth slack. His eyes are rolling back in his head. He sags against Kylo and presses his lips to his ear, whispering something. 

”Get out,” the Supreme Leader snarls, the sudden, sharp command making the officers jump. They hasten to comply - maybe even a bit too fast - their strut more like a scramble for the door as they scurry to the passenger compartment. 

“Back to the ship,” Kylo instructs and Tavson straightens his shoulders because that’s his cue. 

Sliding into the pilot’s seat, he turns his full attention back to the command panel and enters the coordinates for the Finalizer. Behind him, he can hear a faint gasp of ' _oh fuck, Ren-!_ ’ followed by a growling moan. 

Tavson starts the shuttle’s engines with a deep sigh. Next month’s shore leave cannot come fast enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr.](https://theseviolentdel1ghts.tumblr.com)


End file.
